


The Storm Within

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fingering, Possessive!Gabriel, Smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 20:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: How can you hope to move forward when the past won’t leave you alone?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my amazing beta @sumara62. Not only did she come up with the title, but this piece is that much better thanks to her.

_You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up playing hide and seek in the bunker on a Friday night with Gabriel.  Then again, you were pretty tipsy and the archangel had said he was rather fond of games._

 

_“How old are you again?” Came a peevish voice from out in the hallway._

 

 _So maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, but driving_ him _mad for once had certainly been fun for you._

 

_Even in your inebriated state you recognized it was probably not wise to mess with him.  He was an infinite being, after all.  Then again, if he didn't want to play along, he didn't have to.  He probably could have heard you breathing from clear across the bunker, let alone picked up the giggles that slipped out despite your best efforts.  Yet, he continued to do a slow walk around the perimeter of the room, as if none the wiser to your whereabouts._

 

_He finally made it to the bookshelf on which you were hiding.  It was a miracle you had even made it up that high without breaking anything, structurally or physically.  He paused, coming to a stop directly beneath you, and your breath stilled. You tried to slide out of view as he turned in your direction, only to go toppling over the side as your hand missed the edge. Instead of connecting with the floor, a pair of sturdy arms broke your fall and you found yourself staring up into warm hazel depths._

 

_“My hero,” you sighed, throwing an arm across your forehead, your head dropping back in a theatrical swoon.  You could practically hear his eyes rolling as he carried you across the room.  While you expected him to find a spot to put you down, you were not anticipating the unceremonious way he dumped you on top of the nearest table._

 

_“That’s no way to treat a lady,” you grumbled, rolling onto your side and propping your head up on your hand._

 

_“Sweetheart, you’re no more a lady than I am a gentleman,” he said, snapping a lollipop into existence and waving it at you.  “Now are we done being five or should I put on some cartoons for you?”_

 

_“If you insist on us being adults, I might be able to think of a few activities for us,” you mused.  Amber orbs regarded you curiously as coyness overtook your demeanor.  You looked up at him through lashes and he moved back just enough for you to swing your legs over the side of the table.  You eased yourself up, eyes dropping to the sucker still in his hand, an idea suddenly forming._

 

_The way his brows rose slightly you couldn’t help but wonder if he heard what you had planned._

 

_You normally found his silence intimidating, but tonight, it emboldened you.  Wickedness tugged at the corners of your lips as you plucked the candy from his grasp.  He watched, eyes following every movement you made, from the way your tongue darted out, sliding nervously over your bottom lip to how it teased a slow circle around the ball of sugar._

 

_“Mmm, cotton candy.  My favorite,” you purred._

 

_You saw how heat grew in gold, rising to the surface until the sardonic edge around the darks of his eyes grew malleable.  Your mouth closed around the lollipop, cheeks hollowing as you sucked, and you noticed the way his breath suddenly stilled._

 

_His hands gripped your knees, opening your legs so he could step between them.  His fingers inched higher, one set lingering on your thigh as the other continued up the curve of your hips.  Tips settled at your waist, pressing possessively with intent._

 

_“I believe that’s mine,” he informed you and it was hard to tell where his eyes dipped down to, your mouth or the candy as you eased it back out along your lower lip._

 

_“By all means,” you told him, voice lowered in challenge.  “Come and get it.”_

 

The radio suddenly leapt to life, jarring you out of your sleep.

 

_So she said what’s the problem baby_

_What’s the problem I don’t know_

_Well maybe I’m in love (love)_

 

Your heart slammed against the inside of your chest, adrenaline blowing the darks of your eyes wide as they struggled to adjust to the darkness.  Sleep still clung to your mind, making it sluggish to catch on to the fact there wasn’t actually any threat.  Well, not to you, anyway.  Whatever idiot Winchester had set an alarm and cranked the volume all the way up might find themselves in a perilous situation.

 

_Think about it every time_

_I think about it…_

 

You felt something tangled around you and in your somnambulistic, horribly disoriented state, your first instinct was to flail.  It only made things worse.  You rolled, struggling to free yourself, and before you knew it you were pitching over the side of your bed in a snarled mass of blankets and limbs.  

 

_Can’t stop thinking ‘bout it_

 

The upside to landing on the floor was it had managed to free you.  You reached behind you, slamming your hand down on the offending piece of junk until the damn thing finally went silent.  You let out a huff of air through your nose, wrenching the covers off your face.

 

This was not how you imagined starting your day.

 

Having a heart attack was one thing.  Being reminded of your heart in general, however, was not on your agenda.  Today.  Tomorrow.   _Ever again_.  

 

You glowered, eyes seeking out the responsible party, plans of murder and mayhem flying through your mind.  When your eyes finally adjusted, however, you realized not only were you alone, you were back in your own room at the bunker.  

 

So much for getting to blame someone else for your miserable existence today.

 

A loud banging sounded at the door just as you managed to get your heart to slow, causing it to leap back into your throat.  

 

“Rise and shine, princess!  We leave in ten!” Dean bellowed, his heavy steps immediately turning and heading back down the hall.  

 

Good.  A case was just what you needed.  

 

You stood up, giving a languid stretch just as static burst through the radio again.   This time you grabbed it, wrenching it out of the wall and tossing it across the room before it had a chance to play anything else.  You’d have to speak to Dean about it.  Your motto may have been, “It’s _never_ faulty wiring” but only Chuck knew when this place had actually been built, let alone had an upgrade.  

 

Besides, you’d run all the standard paranormal tests the last three times this happened.

 

It didn’t take you long to get ready considering you were still mostly packed from your last case.  By the time you made it to the garage, Sam and Dean were just finishing loading up the trunk.

 

“What are we looking at?” You asked, squeezing in between them to toss your bag in.

 

“Possible changelings in Chicago,” Dean informed you.

 

Great, just what you needed.  You enjoyed creepy children about as much as Sam enjoyed the circus.  You reached up, about to close the trunk when the younger Winchester reached in to check something.

 

“You remember to grab that file?” He asked, rifling through their items before glancing up at his brother.  

 

“I thought you did,” Dean said idly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and punching in a number.  “Must be in the library, still.  Should be on the table.  Can one of you grab it? I want to see if Cas can meet us there.”

 

He didn’t wait for a response, turning his back to both of you as he brought his phone up to his ear.  

 

Your knuckles went white as your grip on the car intensified.  Everything in you went rigid, jaw included, as you bit down hard against the rising sentiments.  Bitterness eased through the cracks in your walls, spilling into your chest and causing your breath to grow a little shallow as it forced the air from your lungs.  

 

“You alright?” Sam asked and you nodded, avoiding his gaze.  “Why don't I get it.”

 

You forced yourself to take in air slowly as he headed back toward the bunker.  

 

You grimaced.  It was way too early for you to be losing your shit.  

 

You scrubbed a hand over your face as if that would somehow reset you.  It didn’t and you found yourself slamming the trunk shut with more force than necessary.  Dean’s head whipped around, not so much at the sound but at the way Baby gave a sudden bounce from the impact.  

 

“Watch it!” He hissed, glaring as the phone slipped momentarily from his ear.  “No, not you, Cas…”

 

He pointed a finger at you in warning before going back to his conversation.  Your glower hit him square in the back, and you resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him as well.  You climbed in behind the driver’s seat, mindful to kick off your shoes before spreading out across leather.  As much as you wanted a distraction, you weren’t much in the mood for company at the moment.  

 

You put your back to the front of the car, thankfully well on your way to falling back asleep by the time the other two climbed into the vehicle.  

 

_He reached forward, but his hand closed around the back of your neck instead of the candy, drawing you to him in an unexpected rush of desire and heat.  His lips seared over yours, the warmth and pressure of them dizzying and despite the fact that this was what you wanted, his intensity caught you off guard._

 

_Your mind fumbled to keep up as his hands moved again, fingers hooking through your belt loops.  He jerked you roughly to the edge of the table and a noise caught in your throat as you felt something bulging through the front of his pants.  Knowing he was already hard sent a jolt through your chest straight down to where his erection was trapped against you.  His hands ghosted over your lower back before slipping lower, fingers molding over curves before rocking you against him.  The friction had lips parting, your moan muffled against his mouth.  He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, taste buds teasing over yours, bringing with it that lingering traces of cotton candy and something that held an otherworldly quality._

 

_One of your hands came up, fingers carding through his hair as the other grabbed hold of his shirt. You gasped as his mouth tore away from yours, teeth and tongue blazing a trail down the side of your jaw and along your neck.  He paused, sucking hard on your pulse as his hands slipped beneath the bottom of your shirt where he was eager to explore.  His want thrummed through you beneath his touch, sinking beneath your skin and drawing that lingering desire that always lurked in his presence straight to the surface._

 

_You suddenly felt trapped beneath all your clothing, an all encompassing need to feel skin against skin overtaking you.  Gabriel must have read your mind, one hand withdrawing to give that trademark snap.  Suddenly your top layers were gone, the contrast of coolness against the heat radiating between your bodies sending goosebumps rippling across your skin.  A thrill of anticipation followed in their wake as you realized just how much of him was bare too._

 

_“You sure about this?” He asked, breath uneven as he searched your gaze intently._

 

_You paused, eyes drinking in the sight of him.  The most skin he’d ever flashed at you was an extra inch above his wrist when he made a big show of rolling up his sleeves to help out on a case.  Fuck he was gorgeous.  His body was lean and fit, tight in all the right places and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on every inch of it._

 

_He hooked a finger beneath your chin, drawing your gaze back up.  The darks of his eyes were so wide with lust that hazel nearly became swallowed.  There was something almost feral about him, something that had a shiver of danger racing along your spine and your desire soaring._

 

_“Tell me you want this.”  It wasn’t quite a command, but neither was it wholly not one._

 

 _“I want this,” you told him, hooking your legs around the back of his, heels digging into his calves_ **_._ ** _You reached back up, dragging his mouth back to yours.  You needed this.  You needed him._

 

While it was the roar of the engine that woke you up this time, the music blasting from the speakers that had you once again inching ever closer to heart failure.  

 

_How much longer will it take to cure this_

_Just to cure it cause I can’t ignore it if it’s love (love)_

 

Dean’s hand quickly jabbed the knob, leaving you all in a deafening silence.

 

“You mess with that?” He asked, looking pointedly at his brother.  

 

“What?” Sam asked, no doubt trying to rub some hearing back into his ears.  You joined him, though it was the lingering ringing that bothered you more than anything.

 

“Whatever,” Dean muttered, eyes glancing up to the rearview and noticing you for the first time.  “Here.”

 

He tossed something warm and round wrapped in foil at you and your eyes immediately darted out the window.  You were at some gas station right off the highway, but otherwise had nothing by which to gauge your location.  

 

You tossed the sandwich back up to the front, ignoring the way both heads turned back toward you.

 

“How much longer?”  You asked, staring out at the people coming in and out of the store.  You pretended not to notice the unspoken conversation happening as the brothers exchanged a look.

 

“An hour or so,” Dean finally answered.  You frowned.  It wasn’t enough time to go back to sleep.  You drew your legs up, arms wrapping around them as you laid your head on your knees.  It looked like you were just going to have to ride it out from here.  

 

“You know, there’s this podcast I’ve been meaning to check out you might like,” Sam began, though you doubted there was much right now that would interest you.  “It’s on dragons.”

 

You picked your head back up, curiosity piqued, to find him holding up his ipod and giving it a shake.  “Real dragons?”

 

“Real ones,” he confirmed brows raising slightly.  “If you want, I can come back there and we can both listen to it.”

 

“What are you waiting for?”  You asked, patting the seat beside you.  

 

***

 

You tried.  You had tried in so many ways.  To listen.  To forget.  To quell the clamor always threatening to rise up from the back of your mind and the pit of your stomach.  Like a wolf lurking in the shadows, it watched, ever present, waiting for you to take the smallest step in the wrong direction and give it the opportunity to strike.  

 

Like any predator, it grew hungrier the longer you made it wait.  

 

One day, you knew, there would be a reckoning.  Your were going to do your damndest, however, to make sure it wasn’t today.

 

When Sam saw you beginning to sink, he was there to help you stop taking on water.  He started with stories, ranging from when they were kids all the way through up until they had met you.  He even managed to get Dean to share a few and the ride was filled with as much laughter as it was words.  

 

A comfortable silence settled as you approached a motel, and your eyes lingered on the man beside you.  He was such a good friend and you wished you could tell him,  but saying it would be admitting that something was wrong.  You weren't ready to do that yet, even if he already knew.  

 

Hazel eyes glanced sideways, brows raised with question.  

 

“Everything ok?”  He asked, glancing over at you.  

 

Everything was, thanks to him.  

 

You smiled, slipping your arm through his as you laid your head on his shoulder.  “Yeah.  Thanks, Sam.”

 

He was smart;  you knew he would read between the lines enough for you to let you skirt the truth a little longer.

 

“Anytime,” he smiled.

 

The rest of the day was thankfully so busy you didn’t have much time to stop moving, let alone think.  Dean headed down to the police station to see what he could find on the missing persons while you and Sam questioned neighbors, friends and family to see what leads you could discover.  

 

Unfortunately the most you stumbled upon was a suburb filled with bored housewives and cougars.  Having a tall, good-looking man in a sharp suit going door to door was like waving the proverbial red flag at a bull.  It had not been a pretty sight by any means, and you would have felt bad for Sam if you hadn’t been silently sniggering the entire time.    

 

Dean, at least, had marginally better luck and had called to tell you to meet him back at the station to regroup.  

 

As you got into the elevator, a familiar tune drifted through your ears.  It took you a moment to recognize it, however.  The upbeat tempo had been considerably slowed, the guitars replaced by pianos and instead of drums there cymbals softly tsking in the background.  

 

_Well baby I surrender_

_To the strawberry ice cream_

_Never ever end of all this love..._

 

You didn’t realize how tense you’d become until Sam said something.  

 

“You ok?” He asked.

 

You nodded, eyes riveted to the red numbers as they flashed across the display.  

 

_Well I didn't mean to do it_

_But there's no escaping your love..._

 

Thankfully, your ride was only a few floors.  The elevator lurched to a stop, relief settling over you as the doors slid open.  You were surprised to find Sam’s hand against you, guiding you from between your shoulder blades, as you both stepped out into the hall together.  

 

“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, hanging a left and following the signs toward the administration area.  

 

“Yeah?  Well maybe I’m not after our trip to cougarville,” he deadpanned.  “Maybe you should be rubbing my back.”

 

“You mean you didn’t love being the center of attention?” You teased, lips curving up as you recalled the persistent look of panic that pervaded his features for much of the afternoon.  

 

“Not sure it was me so much as my ass,” he remarked and you chuckled.

 

“Can you blame them?  It _is_ rather perky,” you said, lips twisting up wryly as he made a face.  

 

“I… don’t even know how to respond to that,” the look he gave you suggested he wasn’t sure whether he should be worried, mortified or flattered.  Considering the source, it should’ve been a little of each.    

 

You pushed your way through a set of double doors, eyes instantly falling on a familiar figure.

 

“Take it however you want, big guy,” you said, patting his arm as it dropped away from you.  You couldn’t help but smirk at the faint trace of red spreading across his cheeks.  

 

“What is that?” Sam asked, gesturing to the stack of boxes next to him.  

 

“Oh these?”  Dean said idly.  “These are every unsolved case this precinct has had for the last fifty years.  Give or take.”

 

“Tell me they’re not coming with us,” His brother continued, gaze uncertainly jumping between them and his brother.

 

“Well, I could, but that would be lying,” he said with a sly smile.

 

“And why would we need all those?” You arched a brow.

 

“Auditing purposes, of course,” he explained, smiling again as a few officers walked by.  

 

“We late to the party?”  You guessed.

 

“Yeah.  Our sister field office wrapped it up this morning,” he explained.  “But we didn't come all this way for nothing, so… start lifting, _big guy_ ,” he teased, mimicking your actions and giving Sam a hefty pat on his arm.

 

***

 

“I got the last couple,” Sam announced, heading back out the door.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink and some food before we dive in.”  Dean’s eyes trailed over the dozen boxes now lined up against the wall.  

 

“Grab me something to go?”  You asked, setting another one down on the pile.

 

“You feeling ok?” He asked, and you felt more than saw the way his gaze became more appraising the longer it lingered on you.  

 

“Yeah, just want to catch a nap.  Figure it will be a long night,” you told him, gesturing toward the files and brushing off his concern.  The way he continued to stare suggested he was not convinced.  

 

One thing you could say about Dean: his instincts were sharp.  The more you ducked out of things with him and Sam, the more you’d catch him side eyeing you, but he had yet to say anything about it.  

 

Apparently, tonight was the night he made his stand.  

 

“You’ve been sleeping an awful lot lately,” he noted.  To his credit he kept it casual, pulling out his phone and idly scrolling through it.  

 

“Yeah.  That tends to happen when you’re a woman and you hit a certain time of the month,” you replied, pretending to be looking for something in your bag as you watched him from the corner of your eye.  He stilled, eyes glancing up to nothing in particular as his mind absorbed the information.  Everything clicked, evidenced by the slight wince that crept across his features and the way he suddenly shifted nervously away.  

 

“Right.  Burger it is,” he grunted, looking rather eager as he strode toward the door.  

 

“Woah,” Sam said, irritation lacing his words as he barely avoided being bowled over by his brother.  He shook his head, bringing the last set of boxes in and dropping them in the pile.

 

“Where’s the fire?” He asked, hands landing on his hips as he looked back at the open door.  

 

“Apparently in my pants,” you deadpanned, kicking off your shoes before claiming the bed furthest to the door.  Curiosity flashed in the pull of his brows before he gave a slight shake of his head, letting it drop.

 

Sam had always been a smart one.

 

“You’re not coming?”  He inquired, and the look he gave you bordered so heavily on fraternal it appeared you were facing round two of “throw the Winchester off the scent.”  

 

“Nope,” you told him, crawling up the bed and settling on your side.  “Wake me up when you get back.”

 

You could feel him hovering, no doubt debating whether or not it was time to pick his battle.  Thankfully, he decided against it.  When you heard the soft click of the door shutting, you grabbed an extra pillow, squeezing it between your arms as your body curled around it.  The silence was deafening, but fortunately, you didn’t have to endure it very long.

 

_Gabriel’s name echoed through the library, likely echoing out the front door as you hit your third orgasm of the evening.  You were on the verge of passing out, each one an even more intense rush than the last._

 

_“Just one more,” he told you, tongue dipping momentarily to that oversensitive nub, causing your entire lower body to jerk.  You whined, thankful when he eased down to tease along your folds.  You were unable to come up with an explanation for his sudden fascination with making you come other than the son of a bitch was trying to kill you._

 

_“I could think of worse ways to go,” he murmured, lips pressed against yours and you moaned as the vibrations had heat gathering at your core once more._

 

_“For the love of your father, Gabriel, just fuck me,” you pleaded.  This was torture.  Sweet, blissful torture, having him lavish so much attention on you without giving you what you really wanted.  Then again, that was completely in line with his MO._

 

_“What’s the magic word?” He taunted, tongue teasing along your slit until it circled your entrance._

 

_“Now or I find someone willing to get the job done.”  You were completely joking.  There was no way you were walking away from him after how long you’d wanted this._

 

_His ministrations stilled and you felt something shift in the air around you.  Whatever it was almost held a heated quality to it, the sensation skirting the fringe of your senses, not allowing you to fully grasp what it was.  There was no denying the look on the angel’s features, however, as he raised his head, amber burning brightly as he stared up the length of you._

 

_Apparently, there were actually  things in which Gabriel found no humor whatsoever.  This happened to be one of them._

 

_He unhooked his arms from beneath your legs, placing his hands on either side of you on the table.  He kissed his way back up your mound, continuing up to the sensitive skin along your hips.  Your stomach tightened, teeth and tongue teasing over your navel and further fanning the flames of your desire._

 

_“Tell me, cupcake, who else would you like to be here?”_

 

_There was a dangerous quality wrapped within the silken tone that drifted over your ears.  The game had changed, to what you were unsure of, but it was very clear by the primal gleam in gold that you needed to proceed with caution.  This wasn’t the Gabriel you knew.  This was the archangel in him, the one that usually only came out when you were injured or in need of protection._

 

_Apparently wounding his pride brought out the beast as well._

 

_“Perhaps you’d prefer Sammy boy?”  He continued, tone deceptively casual.  “Tell me, y/n, do you fantasize about what those long fingers of his can do?”_

 

_Gabriel’s own fingers teased down between your folds, a solitary tip pushing just inside your entrance, causing you to arch into his touch.  At the same time his mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking before swirling his tongue in lazy circles around it.  You were so caught up in the feel of him that you’d forgotten anything else existed, let alone that he had asked a question._

 

_A half-groan, half-whine of exasperation lodged in your throat as all touch suddenly vanished._

 

_“Do you?” He repeated, tone gaining an edge._

 

_“No,” you answered, eyes locking on his.  It was the right combination of words and action and you were rewarded as he slipped his entire finger within you.  His lips went back to your chest, ghosting over the valley between your breasts before inching higher._

 

_“Maybe it’s Dean then?” He murmured, pausing to nip along your collarbone.  “All those nights of having to hear what he’s capable of and now you can’t help but think about what does the boy wonder do to elicit such sweet noises?”_

 

_For the love of Chuck, was he serious?_

 

_“Gabe, I was just --”_

 

_“Yes or no,” he commanded._

 

_“No,” you breathed and he slipped a second finger inside of you, causing your head to sink back as you savored the sensation.  He allowed you the moment, fingers easing in and out at a tantalizing pace._

 

_“Perhaps it's my little brother, then?”  He wondered, teeth sinking a little deeper along the ridge of your shoulder.  You let out a sharp noise, more out of surprise than from the sting it left behind.  That was going to leave a mark._

 

_“Did Cassie pick just the right vessel for you, sweetheart?  Or is the whole awkward duckling thing just a turn on for you?”_

 

_He continued inward toward the curve of your neck, alternating between hard sucks and nips.  His fingers grew more insistent, tips curling up to hit that sensitive spot inside of you as he picked up the pace.  You weren't sure if it was the added roughness this time around, if it was that tinge of jealousy coloring his demeanor, or if it was simply because you were steadily inching closer toward orgasm number four, but the rush thrumming through you was so heady it had the world growing fuzzy around the edges._

 

_“No,” you groaned.  “I want you.”_

 

_You wriggled impatiently, hoping to be rewarded with something other than a finger this time._

 

_“Good girl,” he praised, his thumb coming up to brush over your clit.  You let out a gasp, feeling that heat coiling tighter and tighter, winding itself up in preparation for another snap.  His mouth grew gentler, tongue lavishing sore spots and soothing the residual sting of his marks._

 

_“Gabe, please,” you breathed, hips writhing, your need for him maddening.   He withdrew his fingers, his thumb continuing to keep you steadily climbing back toward that familiar peak as he lined himself up with you._

 

_“Is this what you want?”  He asked, teasing his tip along your entrance, giving you the smallest taste as he eased his head inside.  “For me to take you?  I should warn you, I don't share well with others.”_

 

_Like there were any others even on the radar.  It had been him and only him the last several months to the point it was almost painful whenever he came around._

 

_“Good,” you told him, hands grabbing that soft hair at the back of his neck and dragging his lips back to yours.  “Want you - just you.”_

 

_“Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, but the way his tongue probed your mouth he was already doing just that.  His thumb picked up speed, your system positively igniting as that band of pleasure grew so unbelievably taut.  Just before it snapped, he pushed into you and you were so wet for him that it only took a few quick rocks of his hips before he was fully sheathed.  His mouth swallowed your cry as you shuddered around him, walls clamping down as they simultaneously stretched, and the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before._

 

_He held himself there, letting you ride out the rest of your orgasm that had the world fading around you.  When it finally came back into focus, you found a familiar face staring down at you.  Gabriel had returned.  That manic edge had receded, replaced with a warmth and touch of fondness you’d gleaned from time to time but never had seen so openly from him._

 

_“Welcome back,” he told you, smiling wide, and you weren’t certain how much more your heart could take as dimples made an appearance for the first time in ages._

 

_“You too,” you murmured and you instantly regretted saying anything as the glow behind honeyed hues grew a little dimmer.  He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a slow, sweet kiss, a hand brushing up the length of you.  He cupped a breast, thumb teasing over a peak and you whimpered.    You tried to get the trembling mess that was once your legs to wrap around him, but exhaustion was setting in and you had no choice but to let them fall back against the table._

 

_“Fuck, Gabe, I’m - I’m not going to last much longer,” you panted, fingers tenderly running through the back of his hair.  His hand traced back down the contour of your body, bursts of energy blossoming in its wake.  Color inked in around the edges of your vision, the world leaping to life around you.  The fatigue you felt settling within muscle and sinew vanished and you felt more invigorated than you could ever remember.  He drew back, displaying that self-satisfied smirk as you stared up at him wide eyed, intoxicated by the sudden rush of energy._

 

_“Cupcake, we are just getting started.”_

 

You awoke, giving a lazy stretch.  The past continued to blur around the edges of reality, causing the space around you to feel more vacant than it should.  You reached out, seeking something to fill the emptiness in your arms.   As before, fingertips fell against chill-kissed sheets, and you opened your eyes to find nothing other than your growing disappointment and an absence that stretched beyond the borders of your bed.    

 

You swallowed, your throat thick with things you’d rather not think about as you realized just where you were.  You sat up, palms settling against your eyes.  Whether it was to rub the sleep from them or to prevent your emotions from leaking out unexpectedly, you weren’t sure.  The steady pressure was grounding, however, as you focused on taking a breath.  

 

 _Just one more,_ you told yourself.  Just one more breath.  One more night.  One more case.  One more and you’d make it.  If you just told yourself this one more time, it would somehow be enough.  

 

It almost wasn’t.

 

You never should have told him.  You never should have thought it, let alone breathed life to a word that you always felt had too much power for its own good.  

 

You struggled to swallow the taste of brine and bitterness as it became harder and harder to stem the tide from creeping in.  It was too much, too fast, and like a match everything had burned bright in that solitary moment.  Yet with nothing left for that flame to jump to, everything had faded, leaving nothing but charred remains of what could have been in its wake.

 

Of course Sam would choose the exact moment you were grappling with things to walk back through the door.  

 

“Hey,” he greeted, your hands instantly falling to your side and from the corner of your eye you could see him holding up a takeout bag.  “Burger.  Fries.  Nothing special.”

 

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, putting your back to him as you finished figuring out which piles of shit were still within your grasp and which had simply floated out to sea.  

 

“Where’s Dean?” You asked, trying to shift your focus away from your own thoughts.  

 

“One of the, uh, _ladies_ ,” from the tone of his voice, he was using that term loosely,  “we interviewed earlier showed up at the bar.  He insisted on doing his own questioning.”  He paused as the door to the room next to them opened, a familiar voice carrying through the wall.  “Speak of the devil…”

 

“Want to make a bet on how long they actually chat?”  A little of your bitterness spilled over in your words, making them seem more sardonic than wry.  Tonight was not the night you needed to be listening to this crap.  Sam knew it by the way he played along for once.  

 

“Only if loser gets laundry duty.”  

 

“Yeah, like I’m falling for that again,” you told him.

 

One of the greatest things about Sam’s smile was how infectious it could be.  Often when he flashed it in your direction, it was hard to keep from giving him one of your own.  Tonight, the ache in your chest had your lips tightening, and the roar from that rising sea inched ever closer.  

 

“Why don’t you eat and I’ll try to figure out where to even start with…”  He dropped the bag on the table, lips pulling thin as he waved at the collection of files.  You forced yourself to take a seat, pulling out the styrofoam container and popping it open.  You still weren’t hungry, but you could feel him watching you from the corner of his eyes as he started rifling through one of the boxes.  You stuffed a few fries in your mouth, putting your hand out expectantly as he made his way back over with a stack of manilla folders.  

 

“Eat,” he ordered and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.  You were tempted to remind him there was a thing called multi-tasking you might have tried a time or two.  

 

“I love it when you get bossy,” you teased instead, throwing in a wink for good measure.  The wind began to pick up outside, causing the building to groan.  

 

“Shut up,” he said, trying hard to keep a straight face.  

 

“You should really show off your commanding side to the ladies in the suburbs.  I bet they’d feel much safer knowing there was such a strong, _perky_ authority figure around.”

 

You didn't even bother dodging the file that came thwapping down on your shoulder.  

 

“Please sir, may I have another?”  You drawled, mimicking one of the women who had actually gone so far as to grab Sam’s ass earlier.  

 

A sudden gust had the door rattling on its hinges and you both glanced out the window.  Debris swirled around the parking lot, the wind whipping in short, insistent bursts.  

 

“You know, you’re worse than Dean sometimes,” he told you, cheeks slightly coloring as he flipped open the file.  He pretended to be put off, but you could tell he was more relieved than anything by your playfulness.  The exchange left you feeling a little lighter, and the bite you took of your burger wasn’t as hard to swallow as you expected.  

 

You pulled out your phone, idly checking your e-mail when a low moan sounded far closer to your head than you wanted to acknowledge.  For shit’s sake, was Dean for real?  Did he not realize how terribly laid out these places were by now?  How paper thin the walls were?  How little you really wanted to acknowledge the rest of the world continued even though yours sat at a standstill?

 

Your features sobered as you stared at the wall and something inside of you snapped.  Before you knew it, your fist was pounding against the sheet rock.  

 

“There’s a radio in there for a reason!” You barked.  Sam let out a relieved snort as everything next door went silent.  A few moments later, the murmur of music filtered in next to you, the volume quickly rising until you could recognize the riff from Metallica’s _Enter the Sandman._

 

“Why didn’t I ever think of that?” Sam wondered.  

 

“Because you’re too nice,” you muttered, peevishly throwing down the fry in your hand and pushing the container away.  His mouth opened and your eyes flashed with warning.

 

“Ask one more time if I’m ok --”

  
“So don’t make me ask,” he interrupted, letting the file drop to the table.  “Talk to me, for once.  Talk to _someone_ instead of letting whatever is going on eat away at you.”

 

“Everything’s fine,” you insisted, meeting his unwavering stare with one of your own.  

 

“No, it’s clearly not--” a flash of lightning skittered across the sky, followed by a foreboding clap of thunder “--and a friendly reminder? I’m not Dean.  Claiming _woman issues_ ,” Sam’s voice deepened to a mocking impression of his brother’s, “isn’t going to send me running in the other direction.”

 

You snorted softly through your nose.  Sam was tougher to distract, but his gentle, empathetic nature made him easier to get to back down.  Not that there was much of that to be seen at the moment.  

 

You realized you were going to have to rethink your strategy as that brotherly look returned and this time you had a feeling it wasn't going anywhere.  

 

It didn't take you long to come up with an explanation.  The excuse sat on the tip of your tongue, waiting for your voice to give it life so you could try to move on with yours.  Before you could say anything, however, your phone buzzed, drawing your attention back down.  It was a text from Garth.

 

_E-mailed that recipe you wanted._

 

Well at least you’d have some decent pie to look forward to when you got back to the bunker.  You backed out of the conversation, pausing when you looked at the list of all the people with whom you’d been in contact.

 

Your throat closed over as all the sentiments you kept on swallowing came soaring to the surface.  You tried to push them back down, but this time they wouldn’t be denied.  Bitterness was the thread tying them all together, but the actual patchwork of emotions was sewn against a backdrop of loneliness and loss that went beyond the sharp sting of rejection.  Gabriel had been your friend, a _good_ one, to the point you couldn’t remember a time where his name wasn’t in the first five on your text list.  

 

Now it wasn’t even there at all.  

 

You weren’t sure when the tears began, only that they were falling so fast you had no chance to put a stop to them.  

 

“I messed up,” you blurted, your vision blurring to the point you could no longer see anything but your mistakes.  “I messed up, Sammy, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

 

Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as the shore became ripped out from under you, the riptide of repressed emotions dragging you under and swallowing you whole.  Something warm and solid closed around you as you let out a sob and you felt yourself gently lifted out of your seat.  

 

“It’s ok,” Sam murmured, tucking you against him as he pulled you down to the floor with him.  “It’s ok.  I’ve got you.”  

 

It wasn’t ok and it was never going to be ok because there was no going back from here.  

 

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” he promised.  “You’re not alone.”  

 

The wind returned, howling against the side of the building, catching both your attention by the sudden intensity of it.  You could feel an unnatural electricity gathering on the air, making your body tingle before it finally released as lightening fired across the sky.  Thunder echoed close behind the bursts, so powerful this time that it had the entire building shaking.   A surge went through the electrical system, causing the lights to flicker and the TV to suddenly pop on.  

 

_These lines of lightning_

_Mean we’re never alone_

_Never alone, no, no_

 

There was an intense burst of light overhead before everything in the room went dark.  Uneasiness had your head creeping back above the water.  Sure, power surges were normal during thunderstorms.  A blackout in a single motel room?  That was definitely out of the norm.  Not only could you see the other rooms across the lot still shining bright, but the music in Dean’s room continued uninterrupted.  

 

A silhouette appeared in the light still dimly filtering in from outside.  You really hoped that was who you thought it was, or you and Sam were in a whole lot of trouble.  

 

“I’d appreciate it if you took your hands off my girl,” a familiar voice warned, tone low, calm -- _deadly_.  

 

Apparently, Sam might be in trouble either way.

 

“Gabriel?”  He asked, surprised.  

 

The archangel snapped, making the lights flare to life again.  

 

“ _Now_ ,” he warned.  A thundering crack boomed just outside the room as a streak of lightning tore down from the sky straight down the center of the parking lot.  Sam put his hands up, hastily moving to his feet.

 

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here,” he began, eyes darting back and forth between you and the seriously pissed being closing in on him.  “And it’s none of my business, but --”

 

“You’re right.  It’s not.  Take a walk,” Gabe said, snapping his fingers and making the man disappear.  A chorus of shouts went up from the other side of the wall followed by a whole lot of expletives.  Judging by the horror in both Dean and his brother’s voice, there were things possibly seen that were never going to be unseen.  

 

“Was that really necessary?” You demanded, pushing up from the floor and hastily swiping at the lingering wetness across your cheeks.  

 

“He’s lucky I didn’t snap him into the movie ‘It’ with how his hands have been all over you today,” Gabriel retorted.    

 

You heard the door open and slam shut next door just as the sky opened up in a downpour.  

 

“Come on!” Sam shouted.  

 

You folded your arms over your chest.  No way.  No freaking way did he get to storm in here (literally) and act all jealous after everything he put you through.  

 

“Stop punishing him for what you did,” you snapped.  You were so close to walking out that door yourself.  Maybe he sensed that.  Maybe he saw the pain that drifted on the coattails of your anger.  Maybe he just realized what a dick he was being.  Whatever the reason, he listened, though he still couldn’t resist making a show of it.  His entire head rolled along with his eyes before he snapped his fingers, putting an end to all the rain.   

 

“Happy?” He asked.

 

You had been so far from that emotion for so long you weren’t sure if you could find your way back to it.  

 

“Six months, Gabriel.  Six--” you paused, sucking in a breath as you felt your emotions rushing up the back of your throat, clamoring to take a spot on your tongue along with your anger.  “No texts.  No calls.  Not a single word.  You ignored every one of my prayers and--”

 

“I know,” he broke in, hands going up in surrender as he adopted a more contrite look.  It was a welcome interruption, his words preventing you from sinking back beneath dark waters, though you still couldn’t prevent a mist from overtaking your gaze.   

 

“Then you know you don't get to be angry if someone else wants to touch me.”  

 

That little piece of absoluteness flashing in the darks of his eyes said otherwise.

 

“You’re the one that took off,” you reminded, jabbing him square in the chest.  

 

“I know,” he said, features hardening.

 

“You don't get to just walk back into my life and expect things will be the same!”

 

“I.   _Know_.”  Heat rose up around you, a dangerous quality whispering through the energy thrumming through the air between your bodies.  It was a visceral reminder that you weren’t just dealing with some man.  This was an infinite being, one that, no matter how long he spent on earth, was programmed to be a weapon capable of terrible destruction.  

 

Yet, fear was not among the emotions simmering beneath the surface.  A dissonance hummed through you, instincts giving a sound warning at the same time they had you reaching out to calm the echoes of that primal piece of him.  

 

You stepped closer, palm sliding across his cheek, and you watched as his eyes slipped closed.  The way his face leaned into your contact had your heart singing bittersweet notes which calmed the clamor inside your own mind.  His touch at your waist was tentative, drawing you closer as his forehead rested against yours.  The tension in his frame released as he let out a slow, steady breath.  

 

“I’m sorry,” he was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

 

“I know,” you admitted and you couldn’t explain how you knew he was telling the truth, only that there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t believe him.  

 

He drew back and when your eyes met his again they found that manic energy had receded.  You began to notice the way the hardened edges of his mask begin to crack the longer he gazed at you.  Piece by piece it splintered, until you were able to brush it away beneath the tender path your thumb began to trace back and forth against his stubble.  

 

You’d caught glimpses beneath his facade before, but you’d never seen him nearly as exposed as he was right now.  There was so much sitting just beneath the surface, the sentiments so entangled you couldn’t even couldn't even begin to tease it them apart.  The regret that had gold losing its luster, however, was easy to identify.  It mirrored that ache that had lingered on the fringe of every action, every thought and every feeling you’d had since he’d vanished.  

 

You suddenly found that you didn’t have it in you to unleash your anger on him anymore.  

 

It didn’t mean you still weren’t going to have your answers.  

 

“Then why?”  You asked.  Having him there somehow calmed the storm that threatened to rise as you faced his rejection head on for the first time since it had happened.  

 

“Running is what I know.  It's what I’ve always been good at.”  The smile he gave was weighted, laden with a sadness and bitterness whose roots stretched further beneath the surface than you would have guessed.  As he looked at you, however, something changed.  Light filtered in through the shadows, illuminating amber in a way that struck you, not only with its beauty, but from the sheer amount of _something_ that lay within it.  

 

“I don't want to anymore.”  A rose suddenly appeared in one of his hands, and he held it up for you to take.  “Still love me?”

 

You’d heard a lot of things from him before, especially the night he left.  Something told you, however, this was different.  This wasn't just him echoing words that your lips and sentiments had breathed life into.  This was him creating something of his own.  

 

It was everything you wanted from him and nothing you had expected.  It took your mind a moment not only to catch up to realize this wasn’t just some dream.  Tonight, he was real.  

 

“I understand if you need some time.”  He mistook your continued silence for hesitation, maybe even rejection.  “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

 

You wondered how long he really would wait for you.  Gabe was not known for his patience.  Then again, neither were you.  

 

One hand took the rose from his grasp while the other grabbed him by the back of the neck and drew him to you.  Your lips met his in a heated embrace, all your want and loneliness coming together in this single act.

 

“I still love you, Gabe,” you breathed.

 

“Yeah?”  The smallest of smiles curled at the edge of his lips, as if he wasn't quite willing to believe it just yet.  

 

“Yeah,” you told him, slipping your arms around him and closing the gap between you.  You placed your cheek against his, liking the faint feel of stubble against your skin.  For a moment you just stood there, enjoying the feel of his presence again and how it filled that empty ache inside of you.  As the final embers of your anger finally burned out, new ones lit in their place.  This heat, however, was far more tolerable.

 

“You know what else I love?” You murmured, your mouth brushing against his ear.  Your hands tightened around him and this time it was your fingers whispering _mine_ into his skin.  

 

“That thing you do with your tongue.”

 

It was a good thing you’d slept so much because the look you received suggested it was going to be a long night.

 


End file.
